


That Conversation

by MaskoftheRay



Series: Prompt and Circumstance [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Both these two care about Bruce soooooo much, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Bruce and Clark are best friends, Bruce is like: 'Stay out of Gotham Superman', Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Jim Gordon meets Superman, POV Jim Gordon, Prompt Fill, Protective Jim Gordon, Soft Jim Gordon, Soft Superman, Unexpected Visitors, and Jim's like: 'Stay if you're gonna help', and they spend their time talking almost ENTIRELY about Batman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21812560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskoftheRay/pseuds/MaskoftheRay
Summary: Jim Gordon and Supermanbothcare about Batman. But, somehow, they’ve never spoken one-on-one before (Jim suspects this isBatman’sfault). That is, until the Dark Knight finds himself out-of-commission for a bit because of an injury. Then,thenJim finally meets Superman. So what do they talk about when they cross paths?Batman, of course.
Relationships: Jim Gordon & Batman, Jim Gordon & The Batfamily, Jim Gordon & the Justice League (mentioned), Superman & Jim Gordon
Series: Prompt and Circumstance [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540885
Comments: 12
Kudos: 322





	That Conversation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KitaStone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitaStone/gifts).



> This is a (late, late, late, AS USUAL, god) prompt request fic for [KitaStone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitaStone/profile), in response to my one-shot collection fic, _Tired Bat_ , and more specifically, to [Chapter 28](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227091/chapters/48809420#main). Hope you like it :).

When Jim Gordon got out of bed in the morning, he hadn’t been expecting to meet Superman later that night— no one _expects_ to meet Superman, anyway, and especially not the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department. **Their** guy was notoriously territorial, after all, and the blue-and-red-clad alien hero seemed like the kind of man to _respect_ that. At least, that’s what the Commissioner took away from Superman’s pointed _absence_ from Gotham’s skyline and streets for all these years.

Jim knew about Superman— _everyone_ did— but he liked to think he had a bit of insider’s knowledge. Over the years, Batman had been, rather reluctantly (at least in his thinking), sucked into the wider hero community and had finally had to relinquish his less-than-stellar vigilante reputation. This relieved Gordon because it meant less taxpayer money and GCPD time were wasted on ineffective Bat hunts. It _also_ meant he now had an excuse to linger longer than strictly necessary on the roof when the Batsignal was lit.

Another side effect of this change was that Batman seemed to _appreciate_ Jim Gordon, and his no-nonsense, down-to-earthness more, given the contrast between the Commissioner and some of the Bat’s rather _unearthly_ colleagues. This meant that, occasionally, Batman talked shop, or rather, he **complained** about the league’s lack of sense, especially when it came down to the little things: “No idea how to keep a crime scene uncontaminated,” he’d said one night, after they’d exchanged information on a murder case, “so I had to spend the next _hour_ sorting through which boot prints were the team’s and which were there originally.”

So in this way, Jim Gordon learned quite a lot about the Justice League. He even met them, a few times, but not individually. There was a hell of a difference between a five-second greeting (fielded, of course, by **Batman** ) and personalized attention. A _hell_ of a difference, that.

Over the years, he’d also seen Batman in many different states— some caused by Gotham’s own craziness, others by league incidents. Many partners ( **not** **_sidekicks_** ; Jim had learned that from the _original_ Robin) had come and gone, and the Commissioner had seen them in many different states too. But one thing he had _not_ seen was another hero— one who **wasn’t** from Gotham, anyway— appearing when he lit the signal.

Jim lit the Batsignal as usual, and held the manila folder under one arm. It wasn’t warm, but spring was approaching; he could tell because his bones no longer ached when he stood here, waiting for the Bat to materialize. He took the time to gaze at Gotham’s skyline, which had changed, subtly, in the ten years since Jim had been the GCPD’s Commissioner. He withdrew a cigarette, and lit it. “Those will kill you, you know,” came a voice from behind his left shoulder.

“Christ!” Gordon dropped the file, and watched as papers scattered, and then— were pressed gently back into his free hand. He took a moment to get a hold of himself, dropped the cigarette, and crushed it beneath his boot. Superman stood in front of him, silent. Jim adjusted his glasses, and blinked.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” the alien said thoughtfully.

Jim nodded. _Yeah, he was_. Then his stomach went sour. “Is he okay?”

Superman hesitated, and his brow furrowed. Jim’s stomach dropped. _No. No, no_ — “Oh! I… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you like that!” Superman exclaimed, interrupting Gordon’s existential meltdown. “He’s… well, ‘fine’ isn’t exactly the right word to describe it, but—”

“He’s being a stubborn bastard again, isn’t he?” the Commissioner muttered exasperatedly, before he could think better of it. Superman blinked. Jim blinked, and wanted to smack himself upside the head; maybe he could get Harvey to do it later, when he told everyone about this. _Christ_.

Superman surprised him, however, because he started _laughing_. He laughed so hard that _his feet stopped **touching the ground**_. “Oh, that’s— I’m telling him you said that, Commissioner. Maybe it’ll make him _listen_ to us, for once.”

Jim flushed slightly. “Well, good luck with that, because he doesn’t exactly _listen_ to me, either. You’d think sometimes that this city **doesn’t have** a police force, the way he and the birds go galivanting about. I try to tell him that we don’t need him for _everything_ , but…” he shrugged. “You know how Batman is.”

Superman hummed, and gently set his red boots down on the roof. It was only _slightly_ bizarre, seeing them instead of large black boots. This must have shown on his face, or maybe it was just another of the alien’s powers, because his gaze turned serious. “How long have you known him?” he asked.

Gordon laughed. “That’s a hell of a question, Superman. Feels like _forever_. I guess it depends on what you mean by ‘know.’ I’ve known _of_ him as a vigilante for a long, long time— longer than your league’s been around, anyway— but I’ve worked with him for a shorter period of time.” Superman ran a hand through his hair, and nodded thoughtfully, after a moment. Jim, as a long-time detective, had learned to read people, and knew to trust his gut. So he said, with only slight hesitation, “He trusts you, alright? Wouldn’t work with you if he didn’t.”

Superman smiled— _and wasn’t **that** an odd sight to see on this rooftop_— and took a step closer. He extended his hand, and Gordon stared blankly at it for a moment, before extending his own. Superman’s hand was warm, just like any person’s, and large. The handshake felt like it lasted an eon, though in reality Jim knew it was just a few seconds.

After they’d let go, Superman explained, “I haven’t introduced myself properly. B’d be mad at me for that, considering he didn’t even _want_ me here in the first place.” Gordon blinked, and took that information in. _‘B,’ he’d said. So the alien and Batman really **were** friends. That was good to know_. Hell, it made him feel a little more secure, thinking about the Bat standing among gods, facing otherworldly threats— that he had a powerful friend of his own.

The Commissioner realized that the alien had stopped speaking. “Oh,” he said, “well, I don’t suppose that there’s much introducing for you to do. But, please, call me Jim. _He_ does, and I think you’ve earned that right too.” Superman smiled shyly, and nodded.

“Alright, Jim. You can call me Kal. B does, and, well— he trusts you, so…” _I trust you too_. Jim had to nod, too goddamn emotional to say anything. _He trusts you_. Well, it was nice to hear it said aloud, from a secondary source too. Validated what he’d ~~hoped~~ suspected all these years. The two men fell silent, and Superman— Kal— pretended he couldn’t hear Jim’s throat working as he cleared it. Nice of him.

Finally, the Commissioner regained his composure, and asked, “Is there anything I should know— for when he comes back? If I let him— well, if the **birds** let him— he’d work with broken ribs, or shit like that. You know; he’s always, ‘I’m _fine_ , Jim’ this and, ‘It’s nothing to worry about, Commissioner,’ that.” Superman snorted again, and the grin that came across his face was like watching the sun rise. _Jesus. He really was wholesome and all-American. Made the Gotham in Jim almost ache_.

“No, I don’t think so. We’re— well, his partners and I— are keeping an eye on him. I should be around for the next few days, if you need me. If that’s not going to cause more trouble than help; he always says it’s better if I stay out. Something about power balances, and all that.”

Jim barked out a laugh. “Yes, well, he says that to me too, and _I’m_ the Commissioner. Look, as long as you don’t plan on setting up camp here permanently, or, god forbid, busting anyone out of Arkham, I’d appreciate the help. And you can tell _him_ I said that.”

Kal laughed. “Oh, trust me, I will. He’s stubborn enough when he’s _not_ injured. I’m sure you know that.”

Gordon sighed. This time, it was fondness mixed with exasperation. “I do. So you can _also_ tell him that I said to stay off the goddamned streets until he’s better. I don’t have time to go pulling Batman out of situations he’s gotten himself into.”

Superman winced, and said apologetically, “Well, I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

Jim huffed. “If that isn’t the truest thing I’ve heard all day.”

Superman offered a wry grin— showing that he was, apparently, _more_ than the goody-two-shoes boy scout figure that the Bat had made him out to be. _Interesting. He’d have to talk to David about that_. “I should get going, let you get back to work.”

He snorted. “With you here, I don’t think there’ll _be_ much work.” Kal opened his mouth, but Gordon interrupted, “It’s fine. As long as you don’t stir up any clowns, I’ll live. Go make sure he’s listening to that family of his. I want him back in mint condition, you hear?”

Superman smiled, and gave a sharp nod. “Yes, Sir. I’ll tell him you said hello.”

“Do that.”

Superman lifted off the ground, and was soon no more than a vague red speck in the clouds. Jim shook his head, and let out a puff of air. “Well _that_ happened.” The Commissioner considered lighting another cigarette, but decided against it. He took one last look out at the skyline, shut off the signal, and went back inside.

**Author's Note:**

> David Corporon is Metropolis’ Police Commissioner, apparently. You can learn more about him [here](https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/David_Corporon_\(Prime_Earth\)).


End file.
